


Phoneless, Mildly Radioactive and Very, Very Confused

by toniemx



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Angst, Dan is an idiot, Drunken Shenanigans, Drunkenness, Las Vegas, Light Angst, M/M, My First Work in This Fandom, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Phan - Freeform, Phanfiction, Phil Needs a Hug, Please Don't Hate Me, its cute
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-21
Updated: 2016-06-22
Packaged: 2018-03-14 11:39:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,133
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3409202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/toniemx/pseuds/toniemx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dan didn’t mean to fall in love with Phil. </p><p>Honestly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Dan's Kind Of Shit Day

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first Phanfic. I've written stuff on Wattpad...and once upon a time, ff.net, where this will be cross-posted. I'll update every...when I have time. Aha. Concrit is welcome and helpful! 
> 
> Thanks. y'all.

Dan didn’t mean to fall in love with Phil.

  
Honestly.

  
If he was asked to pin point the moment he decidedly and utterly fell for the northerner, he would draw a blank. It wasn’t like it happened slowly, either. It was sudden in a way that shocked him (but, much to his chagrin, was really quite obvious to their friends), and contrary to popular belief, the day he realised wasn’t the happiest…

  
//

  
After spending the day on a wild goose chase with Louise for a useless (and rather unspectacular) titbit for Darcy to play with, Dan was greeted with case of his beloved Butterfingers and dropped his sparkly new phone through the gap between the tube and platform 2.

  
“Fuckin’-wanky-shit-asscrack!” He cried. Passers-by gave him a funny look as they walked by. Obviously, a 23 year old man child crying onto a dirty, chewing gum stained Circle Line platform was an odd sight.

  
To add to his rotten luck, a spontaneous but typically London-esque rainstorm decided to grace Dan with its presence. And, naturally, a well-timed cab drove past him, straight through a puddle, and drenched him in muddy rainwater.

  
Dan arrived home soaking wet and in a foul mood. It wasn’t like he couldn’t replace the phone – it was under warranty for a few more months – but he _really_ liked this uncharacteristic white shirt and now it was wet, muddy and most likely slightly radioactive (because who knows what the fuck is in the rain nowadays). With a sigh and sagging shoulders, he pulled the shirt off and debated whether or not it was worth keeping. Taking into account the £40 price tag it had arrived with, Dan tossed it in the washing basket and ran a steaming bath…with copious amounts of Radox Muscle Soak. So much, in fact, he was vaguely concerned that he might relax so much he’d fall asleep and drown. But at least he’d be warm he figured, and continued pouring the blue gloop into the bath.

  
//

  
When his eyes opened, Dan saw a concerned looking Phil standing over him. He scrambled to cover his manly bits, only to realise that a) there was no bubbles in the bath water, and, upon further inspection, b) he was on the floor in his room with a blanket covering him.

  
“You fell asleep, and you were almost completely underwater and I couldn’t hear you breathing so I picked you up and put you in here…don’t worry though I made sure I didn’t look and you weren’t actually not breathing, but I panicked-,” Phil rushed to explain. All Dan could see was a black haired angel, with a halo of (crappy, £1.50 Tesco lightbulb) light surrounding him. And then reality hit.

Here he was, 23 years old, more than likely at least slightly radioactive, phoneless and utterly naked under his old brown blanket, with his best friend of four years staring at him with the most panicked eyes he’d ever seen…and the first thing he thought was; ‘ _holy shit, I love Philip Michael Lester_  '.

  
Dan’s moderately shit day got monumentally shittier, because how the everloving _fuck_ was he going to deal with that potentially friendship ruining bombshell?


	2. Out. Of Love? No, Of His Favour.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which there's revelations.  
> And awkwardness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Second chapter! Thank you guys for the kudos/comments/views/bookmarks, I really appreciate it!

Dan was one hundred and ten percent _fine_ with the sudden realisation of feelings he had for Phil.

It wasn’t as if he stared at Phil when he wasn’t looking (okay, maybe he did...but only a tiny bit! Or quite a lot…) or like he randomly drifted off into daydreams about the two of them cozied up on a checked blanket on a nameless hill watching the clouds (which he had caught himself doing, now that he thought about it). Dan, who was lying on his front in his typical existential crisis position, muffled a frustrated scream into the carpet.

It had been a week since Dan’s sudden and rather inconvenient realisation of feelings, and he’d been in a constant state of what scientists refer to as ‘denial’, but what Dan personally called ‘fuck what the fuck _no_ why _Phil_ of all people _fuckfuckfuckfuck_ ’. This was similar to an existential crisis, except instead of wondering what his role was in the ever expanding vastness of the universe, Dan was fantasising about Phil. His eyes, his hands, his…okay, nope, _no_.

After his now routine scream-into-my-bedroom-carpet-and-hope-that-Phil-doesn’t-come-in programme, Dan made his way to the kitchen to make a coffee strong enough to wake King Tut. Upon entering, he was gifted with the ~~adorable~~ sight of Phil leaning on the side, slurping milk from a bowl of cereal off the spoon. He put the bowl down and smiled cheerily at Dan. The younger man’s heart constricted.

“I made you coffee.” Phil said, gesturing to a steaming cup next to the kettle. Dan gave him a tight smile and retrieved the glorious brown liquid. Taking a sip, he made a low ‘mmm’ at the taste. There were times when coffee was his lord and saviour. Recently, after having a week of sleepless nights due to a certain someone, it had become Dan’s best friend. Thinking of said someone, Dan lifted his eyes to take in Phil’s form. He was wearing his Ash and Pikachu t-shirt and his ‘lounge pants’. Phil looked half awake (in a sleepy way that made Dan ache in places it probably shouldn’t have) and if it wasn’t for Dan’s own state of barely awakeness, he probably would of fucking _purred._ Stupid Lancastrians and their stupid hair and smiles and niceness.

Phil looked up from his phone at Dan and the brunette hurriedly averted his eyes to look at something _not_ Phil, which was really quite difficult because Dan liked looking at Phil.

“Didn’t you want to film Truth or Dare 6 today?” Phil asked. Mentally, Dan scolded his past self. Sighing through his nose, he nodded and faked another smile.

//

Two hours later, (as much as Dan hated the idea of having to film a video with Phil behind the camera doing that stupid concentration-tongue-out thing he does, - _in his pyjamas,_ the sadist git, - he really did need to release a new video sharpish) and three embarrassing dares later, Dan was staring blankly at his Mac, trying to form the vague urge to edit. He failed. Spinning off his bed, he dragged his feet to Phil’s room and knocked.

“Phiiiiil! You want to go out – I mean, go shopping? I can’t be arsed to edit that monster of a video and I’m bored. And I need to replace my phone.” The latter of the statement was half true; he _could_ go into the branch and replace it, but it would be easier to simply ring them and inform them of the situation. However, he really _was_ bored and wanted to get out of the house. Phil as his companion would make the trip out a little less mundane.

Phil’s muffled reply came through the door: “Yeah, give me a sec, haven’t finished getting dressed yet!” Dan quickly imagined a half-naked Phil hopping around his room trying to put on those stupid skinny jeans they both insisted on buying and chuckled under his breath. Dan shucked on his coat and wandered down the stairs, warily eyeing the (still) broken bulb on the stair light.

Phil came hopping down the stairs, trying to put on his shoe. His hair was still mussed up and he was wearing his glasses – clearly, he hadn’t had enough time to put his contacts in. Despite the older male’s half asleep state, Dan felt the now familiar tug of _wantneedwant_ in his gut and clenched and unclenched his fists in his pockets to calm down. Stupid Phil and his stupid perfect _everything._

The northerner gave Dan a crooked smile, and his heart did the weird tightening thing it did whenever Phil graced him with a smile. Or a shove. Or a laugh. Even a look across the radio console, as he had discovered the previous night. Phil’s innate ability to make everyone love him (or at least like) and the way he moved, acted, _breathed_ , was proving to be a test on Dan’s willpower. The younger man needed to either get laid or get over Phil soon because holy _shit_ was this _wantneedwant_ feeling he’d had constantly for the past week proving to be a pain in the ass.

//

The two Youtubers wandered around London for the next couple of hours, filming random moments of the two of them dicking around and photobombing tourists. When Phil suggested they go out for dinner (Dan hadn’t even noticed it was so late) at the Chinese place a short walk from the flat, he readily accepted. What he wasn’t expecting the humdrum over-the-table talk to roll around to was the topic of crushes. Seriously. What the everloving _tit,_ Phil?

“Like? I don’t know. Jennifer Lawrence?” Technically, not a lie. She was still pretty high on Dan’s ‘would bang if the opportunity arose’ list, only just below a certain Lancastrian man. Dan shook his head to eliminate any thoughts of _banging_ Phil. Inappropriate thoughts for the dinner table, Daniel Howell, he scolded himself mentally. He tuned back in to the conversation when Phil said;

“I’ve got a ‘crush’ on someone.” The ‘crush’ was symbolised with inverted commas. Dan blanched.

“O-oh really?” He questioned. If his grip on the knife and fork in his hand increased, no one said anything. Phil nodded and took a sip from his Coke.

“Mhm. Have been for a little while actually. I was going to ask you how to go around telling them.” The black haired male looked at Dan through his lashes. “I mean, I figured you’d have some experience…guys are hard to tell, right?” Dan’s knuckles turned white. _Guys?_

He coughed, “Well, I’m not really an expert... if you’re not sure if they feel the same, drop it in conversation and see how they respond?” The last part came out as a high pitched squeak. Phil raised an eyebrow in confusion but nodded.

//

After the (horrifically awkward) dinner ended, Dan made up a lie about not feeling very well and dragged himself to his room. He flopped on his bed and idly scrolled down his Twitter feed, then his Tumblr dash, then tried to occupy himself by reading through his ex-school friend’s ridiculous Facebook statuses. It didn’t work.

_For little while._

_Guys are hard to tell._

Phil’s words ran through Dan’s brain at hyper speed. Who? When? Did Dan know them? Close friends?

_A guy?_

Dan was utterly flummoxed by that. Honestly, the main reason he was so anxious about the sudden being in love with Phil thing was because Phil was straight. Straighter than a goddamn Roman road. Except apparently not.

Dan eventually fell asleep, wrapped in his duvet, his mind swimming with questions. He didn’t even hear Phil talking on the phone in the room opposite.

//

“I don’t understand, Martyn. I pretty much _told_ him at dinner, and he just sat there and stared at his food.”

Phil didn’t mean to fall in love with Dan. Honestly.

When he said he’d had a crush for ‘a little while’ he meant pretty much since the moment they first Skyped. And also less of a crush and more of a barely resistible urge to cling to for the rest of his life. He’d decided (with the help of his brother) to tell Dan just how he felt. But obviously, it didn’t come out right. Or at all.

 _“I don’t know, Phil,”_ his brother’s northern lilt spoke, _“maybe you weren’t clear enough about it?”_ Phil shook his head, then realised that Martyn couldn’t actually see him. The two brothers spent a little under an hour talking about Dan and this… _this._

Phil didn’t sleep very well. All he could think was that Dan was in the room opposite and Phil was tired and cold and lonely and Dan was pretty much the warmest person he knew. He fought the urge to crawl into the younger man’s bed and cuddle, and settled with curling up in a ball and wallowing in his unrequited love induced misery.

In the room across from his, Dan was a mirror image of Phil. The two man-children dreamt on, not knowing that their loves felt the same way.

 


	3. Vegas Lights

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which there's wedding bells, tears, and revelations.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M SORRY FOR MAKING YOU WAIT SO LONG HERE HAVE SOME ANGST

A year later, and Dan was still utterly fucked. 

The tours and the book helped him a little. He was so busy being stressed about everything else kind of put his feelings for Phil on the back burner...until that night.

They’d gone out for a drink after the Vegas show. One drink had turned into five. Phil ended up buying a round for the whole bar.

They stumbled back to their hotel, arms wrapped around each other in a vague attempt to stay upright. Under the moonlight, and through Dan’s hazy vision, Phil looked ethereal. 

“Fiiiill,” he slurred. The equally inebriated man looked up at Dan.

“Yea?”

“You loookk sooo preddy…” and then he leaned down a little and kissed him.

* * *

Dan woke up with a splitting headache. He groaned, sitting up slowly. Without thinking, he patted the bed next to him in hopes of finding his phone and instead felt something warm. And moving.

Eyes wide, Dan looked down. There, lying peacefully, was a shirtless Phil. A very shirtless Phil. 

_Shit._ Was Dan’s first thought. Then he looked at himself. Also shirtless. In a fleeting panic, he whipped the duvet off to find that he still had his underwear on, at least. _Thank god._

Phil let out a pained noise from his position on the bed, rubbing his eye and squinting up at Dan. 

“Morning.” said Dan, wincing at the loudness of his own voice and stretched, pausing when the sun reflected off something on his left hand that hadn’t been there previously. He lowered his hand to eye level and examined the silver band, noticing out of the corner of his eye Phil doing the same thing. Slowly, the two men looked between the rings on their fingers and each other.

“Did we get married?” Phil hushed, rotating his hand backwards and forwards. In the centre of Phil’s ring was a small orange stone, which contrasted the blue one on Dan’s. They sat in silence for a moment or two before Dan stood up shakily.

“I need some paracetamol. And a minute to think. I'm _way_ too hungover for this." he mumbled. Phil just nodded mutely and stared at the ceiling.

Sometime later, Dan walked back into the hotel room. Phil had spent most of the day sat in bed wondering what the hell had happened and trying to not freak out. He hadn’t cried yet, so he thought he’d done pretty well, all things considered. As Dan entered, Phil was taking a Coke out of the mini fridge. 

“I managed to find the chapel we uh...got married in.” Dan said. “You’ll be glad to know it’s not legally binding.”

Phil looked over at him with raised eyebrows, absently toying with the ring pull on the can.

“Pardon?” 

“Luckily, you can’t get legally married without a license. And to get a license you need to both be one hundred percent sober. You’re not meant to be able to go to the chapel drunk either, so the ceremony was basically bullshit, and the rings don’t mean anything. We are not, technically, married.” The brunette clarified. Phil nodded slowly. 

“Oh. Good. Phew.” He smiled tightly to prevent Dan from seeing how much the statement hurt. For three hours he could imagine that he and Dan were together, and happy, and - he stopped himself. With an inward sigh, he wiggled off the ring and placed it on the top of the fridge. Dan’s ring finger was already bare. The realisation of this sent an ice cold dagger through Phil’s heart.

“Do you want to...I don’t know, go get an ice cream or something? Take our minds off it?” he suggested lightly. Dan quirked his lip up and nods. 

On the inside, however, Dan was kicking himself. Repeatedly.

* * *

They walked around for hours, and just so happened to walk past the chapel from the night before. The doors were open and inside they could see two men exchanging ring. One of them had dark brown hair and was a few inches taller than the other, who had black hair. Dan and Phil stopped and watched for a second, and Phil’s heart clenched when they kissed.

The two continued walking. Phil looked at Dan, at their now ringless fingers, and frowned.

“Do you ever think that could be us?” he said before he could stop himself. The question came out quietly and Dan almost didn’t hear it.

“What?” Phil blanched but cleared his throat and repeated the question. Dan’s brain filtered through of a million and one responses to the question, but his mouth seemed to be ignoring him and said, “You’re sounding like a fanfic writer, Phil. Would that happen? Aha, very funny. Maybe in an alternate universe where I’m a space prince and you’re a plant boy who just wants to be loved. You really think that you could feel like that for m-”

Before he could finish his sentence, he was pushed into a hard surface by Phil, who had tears spilling out of his eyes.

“Really, Dan? Are you that goddamn ignorant!? I’ve been in love with you since...since...” and then he was gone, walking at a brisk pace back the way they came. Dan stood in shock before slumping to the ground. _Since when?_

Dan took the slowest route back to the hotel he can think of, thinking the whole time. Of Phil, and of the two men in the chapel. That could be him and Phil, someday. In Dan’s mind, all the fantasies he’s been dreaming up for the past year played like an old movie on a projector. Phil cooking a dinner. Cuddling on the couch. Phil getting down on one knee in the middle of a restaurant. Adopting a kid. Retiring together.

The thing that Dan didn’t understand is how he didn’t realise how Phil felt before. Looking back, he could see it. Every hug, every eye-roll, every long suffering sigh and 'Daaaaan.’ He had been so. Fucking. **Stupid.**

By the time he crept into the hotel room, it was about 10. Phil was already curled up in a ball facing away from the door and Dan’s bed. Dan sighed quietly and took of his jeans and shirt before climbing under his covers.

“You could’ve told me,” he said to the room, “because then that way I could’ve told you I felt the same.” Then he turned onto his side and closed his eyes and tried to sleep.

Two meters away, Phil was staring at the wall with wide, red rimmed eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm super sorry about the whole year long wait thing that was kind of a dick move 
> 
> I'm gonna try n update again soon i promise


End file.
